Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Parshat Terumah

Exodus 25-27 (“So that I may dwell among them.”)

Questions by Joel Cohen


This parsha tells us, in exquisite detail, the construction requirements of the Tabernacle. The dictates of the process aside, it sounds, in some respects, like the commercial plans of a design architect for the inside and outside of a modern building – even down to the gold and silver ornaments, the formation of the Cherubim and the dimensions of acacia wood components of the structure. We are told that God dictated these meticulous elements of the design architecture in order that the Tabernacle will be “a Sanctuary for Me – so that I may dwell among them.”
Interestingly, assuming God already intended that there would be a Temple once the Israelites would settle in the Promised Land, this Sanctuary would only be in use for a relatively short period of time. That is, unless God already intended that the Israelites would wander in the desert for 40 years and would require a portable Tabernacle.
But the bigger question arises from God’s comment on the purpose of the Tabernacle: to create “A Sanctuary for Me, so that I may dwell among them.” Indeed, for two thousand years now we have had neither a Tabernacle nor a Temple “so that I may dwell among them.”
• Does God only dwell among us when we create a particular edifice according to His dictates?
• God has not given us instructions for houses of worship either in the Diaspora or even Israel. Are we left to believe that God doesn't dwell among us any longer? Is a particularized structure necessary for the Scheinah to physically reside?

Rabbi Adam Mintz

Joel---your question has brought the descriptions of Parshat Terumah right up to date. Actually, the rabbis who lived immediately after the destruction of the Second Temple were faced with the same problem. Imagine an entire nation whose religious center was the Temple in Jerusalem. They traveled there at least three times a year to celebrate the holidays of Pesach, Shvuot and Succot. In addition, there is a debate among historians whether there were synagogues during the time of the Temple. Even if these synagogues existed, they did not play a central role while the Temple stood.
In 70 CE the Romans destroyed the Temple. The Jews were sent to the city of Yavneh to rebuilt and recreate Judaism. But, how could this be done without a Temple. Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, the great leader of this Yavneh community, introduced the idea that continues to define Jewish worship and practice----that the synagogue is a “Mikdash Me’at”---a miniature Temple. In other words, the synagogues and its religious and communal purposes replace the Temple. This served to comfort that generation that had lost the Temple and to legitimize the local synagogues as Jews spread throughout the world.
Not surprisingly, the synagogue architecture has come to imitate the Temple architecture. The ark stands in the front of the shul containing the Torah scrolls much as the ark in the Temple contained the Torah scroll written by Moshe. The chazzan who stands in the center of the shul in many ways replaces the High Priest who acted on behalf of the community. One other example of synagogue architecture modeled on Temple architecture if the mechitzah, separating men and women during services. The Mishna explains that during the annual Succot parties in the Temple, in order to prevent inappropriate mingling, they created a separate section for the women. Today, our mechitzah or balcony serves the very same purpose.
So, Joel, indeed the Torah does provide guidelines for the architecture and the substantive role of the synagogue in Jewish life today.

Eli Popack

The answer lies in the wording of the last question, “Is a particularized structure necessary for the Shechinah to physically reside?”
What does the Shechinah residing mean? Is this a figurative form of speech? Is this an objective reality whether or not we can see it, or maybe a subjective experience felt only by the fine-tuned human being?
This issue was highly debated by many great Jewish philosophers, theologians and Kabbalists.
Though not the classic view, the Sefer HaChinuch (publisher anonymously in 13th century Spain) understands that the purpose of building the Temple is to provide a place that is conducive for focus and concentration on the Almighty and His wisdom. The meticulous setup and the details of high maintenance, all contributed to this end. The heightened level of G-dly awareness achieved through this, writes the Chinuch, is the basic meaning of “the Shechinah residing in a given place”.
Accordingly, the modern synagogue, which, as Rabbi Mintz mentions, is the Mikdash Me’at, and is designed in similar fashion to the Temple, would serve the same purpose, and thus also provide a “residence for the Shechinah”. In the words of the prophets (Ezekiel 11:16), “Although I have removed them far off among the nations and although I have scattered them in the lands, I have become for them a minor sanctuary in the lands where they have come.”
Others, such as Nachmanides and the Kabbalists, explain this residence of G-d to be more of an objective reality. Just as the brain serves as the central nervous system of the human, so, too, the Kodesh Hakadashim (Holy of Holies) served as the command center for the Divine energy that sustains the world. The condensed G-dly energy present in the Temple was felt and visible in the daily miracles which took place in the Temple, as described in Pirkei Avot and other places in the Talmud.
They too agree that this G-dly energy is present today to some degree in the Houses of Prayer and Torah study, where G-d’s very words and wisdom are taught and internalized.

Whatever this residence may be, it is not limited, however, to the confines of the Holy Temple or synagogue. All are in agreement that G d instructed that the Mishkan and later the Beit Hamikdash, be built as a "model home" -- a structure that will embody, on a highly condensed and intensified scale, His vision of a dwelling for Himself in the physical world. Thus, truthfully, we are expected to this residence in our own homes, and indeed, in every other aspect of our lives as well.

2 comments:

Baruch Shalom said...

Good stuff!

JUST A GUY said...

R. Stephem Boars, Aish, 2000:


Where Does God Dwell?

"God dwells where man lets him in."
-- Chasidic saying

The question is, where is that "in" which man can let God dwell?

Some answer that God dwells within each individual. Others say God dwells amongst the community. Is this just philosophizing? Or would these different conceptions of God - and how to find Him - actually make a difference in how people conduct their lives? Does the person who believes that God dwells within each individual differ in action than the one who believes God dwells amongst the people?

Whether the place God dwells is 'within' or 'amongst' us, one common aspect of both will be the need to make that 'place' the most fitting. Each belief will emphasize a striving to sanctify, make "holy," and perfect that place for God to dwell.

Therefore, the one who truly believes God dwells within man, will have as his principal drive his own perfection and sanctification. For this person, his goal in life is to be the most spiritual being possible, so that God will dwell within him. His responsibility is essentially only to himself; what he does for others is only because this is what he feels a spiritual person is required to do.

By contrast, the one who believes that God dwells amongst the people will define his goal as making humanity the most fitting for such a relationship.

Both outlooks have similar goals: "to perfect the place in which God dwells." The difference, however, is that one drive is focused inwards, and the other drive is focused outwards - on others.


* * *

"There is one door in front of us all.
Each person has his own lock,
and unless we all turn our own key,
the door will never open."

Everyone has to "let God in" - or no one can!

The thought of having to change an entire society in order to "let God in" is a daunting task! Only having to change oneself is easy by comparison.


* * *

This week's parsha explains the Jewish view of this dilemma. "And I will dwell in the midst of the Jewish People." (Exodus 29:45). Similarly, the Torah also says, "[The Jewish People] should make for Me a Sanctuary, and then I will dwell in their midst" (Exodus 25:8).

There is the potential for God to dwell amongst us, but that is only if we first build for Him a public sanctuary. For God to dwell amongst us we need to build a place fit for God to dwell on behalf of the entire nation. This is the source for why Judaism places such great value upon an extensive communal responsibility.

If God dwells "amongst" us, any individual who achieves this close relationship with God necessarily brings the rest of the community along with him!


* * *

Unfortunately, many Jews today follow the philosophy of "God within." This is antithetical to the Jewish ideal - which has been adopted by the Western world as well. America in particular was founded on the idea of communal responsibility. To be a good person, you have a duty to promote the well-being of all. The philosophy of "God within me" allows (and even promotes) the striving for a meaningful existence without others.

No human being can truly find meaningful existence in the vacuum of a society lacking such meaning. In other words, if you want to make your life more meaningful, then the way to do it is to improve the quality of the life of the people around you.

On Rosh Hashana, all our prayers are in the plural. That, explains Maimonides, is because if God isn't recognized throughout all the world, then there's something inherently lacking in our own appreciation. In fact, Maimonides says that one of the ways to deepen your love of God is to bring others closer to Him. When others are settled, we are too.

Today, there is a very predominant philosophy of "I'm OK, you're OK." Or, "I won't bother you, if you don't bother me." Such a philosophy is only good if you don't mind being brought down with all the people around you. If society is depressed, you will find it very difficult to be uplifted. As the saying goes: "If you're not your brother's keeper, then your brother will become your oppressor!"